No More Learning

For she to every one his own love seems.

_Faust_. What bliss! what woe! Methinks I never
My sight from that sweet form can sever.
Seeft thou, not thicker than a knife-blade's back,
A small red ribbon, fitting sweetly
The lovely neck it clasps so neatly?

_Mephistopheles_. I see the streak around her neck.
Her head beneath her arm, you'll next behold her;
Perseus has lopped it from her shoulder,--
But let thy crazy passion rest!
Come, climb with me yon hillock's breast,
Was e'er the Prater[40] merrier then?
And if no sorcerer's charm is o'er me,
That is a theatre before me.
What's doing there?

_Servibilis_. They'll straight begin again.
A bran-new piece, the very last of seven;
To have so much, the fashion here thinks fit.
By Dilettantes it is given;
'Twas by a Dilettante writ.
Excuse me, sirs, I go to greet you;
I am the curtain-raising Dilettant.

_Mephistopheles_. When I upon the Blocksberg meet you,
That I approve; for there's your place, I grant.




WALPURGIS-NIGHT'S DREAM, OR OBERON AND TITANIA'S GOLDEN NUPTIALS.

_Intermezzo_.


_Theatre manager_. Here, for once, we rest, to-day,
Heirs of Mieding's[41] glory.
All the scenery we display--
Damp vale and mountain hoary!

_Herald_. To make the wedding a golden one,
Must fifty years expire;
But when once the strife is done,
I prize the _gold_ the higher.

_Oberon_. Spirits, if my good ye mean,
Now let all wrongs be righted;
For to-day your king and queen
Are once again united.

_Puck_. Once let Puck coming whirling round,
And set his foot to whisking,
Hundreds with him throng the ground,
Frolicking and frisking.

_Ariel_.